


it's all wrong it's all right

by Dreamdarling84



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, One Shot, PWP without Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-24 17:25:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3777124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamdarling84/pseuds/Dreamdarling84
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>it's dangerous work trying to get to you...and i think if i didn't have to kill myself doing it maybe i wouldn't think so much of you....</p><p>This is my first piece of fan-fiction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's all wrong it's all right

     Sansa's eyes abruptly opened. She was suddenly yanked from her dreamless sleep and wide awake. Disorientated she rubbed her eyes, feeling panicked over something but the thought escaped her as she sat up in bed.  Her restless mind could only stay silent for so long. This was the 2nd night in a row that she struggled to stay asleep through the night. Ever since he left the nights felt as if they went on endlessly. He’d been gone nearly 4 months to Kings Landing. Thankfully her days were rather uneventful in his absence. She had no trouble playing the role of the dutiful daughter Alayne while he was away. Each day Alayne took take care of Robin, kept things in order as best she could, discreetly listened and watched everyone with keen ears and a sharp eye. Alayne did everything her father asked of her. 

     Lord Baelish had only sent one letter to her since his departure from the Vale.  Two months ago she returned to her room after dinner and found the letter neatly folded, sealed and placed carefully at the foot of her bed.  She eagerly cracked the seal and pulled open the supple piece of parchment anxious to see his handwriting, to hear his voice in her head. Her eyes darted back and forth as she read and soaked in his words but.... _why so short._ His ink barely filled half the page. Disappointed she crumpled it in her fist, ready to toss his useless letter in the fire but stopped herself. From time to time she would pull out his letter and read his sparse and indifferent words over and over wondering who he was meeting with and what he was planning.  It pained her to admit it but she missed his company at night, especially on nights when she had trouble sleeping. She slid out of bed and put a robe on over her night gown.  Fresh air might help ease her restlessness, even if it was just being out in the corridors.   _His room,_ she thought, _I'll go to his room._ With a fresh lit candle in hand she opened her door but stopped herself as she stepped out.  His letter. She could see it sitting on her bedside table. There was no need to take it with her but she went back for it anyways.

     As she walked through the passageways and corridors of the Eyrie her thoughts kept wandering to memories of him. Specific interactions popped up in her mind and they were so bright and clear in her thoughts it felt as if she was re-living them. Memories of all the time he spent luring her to his bed kept nagging at her. Never once did he intervene or try to force her decision.  In hindsight she had to admire his artful methods of winning her over...the well chosen words that fell effortlessly from his sly, handsome mouth, the perfectly timed caresses and acts of kindness that only Littlefinger could execute with such ease and natural finesse. He simply presented her with an invitation, provided her glimpses of the pleasure that was just within her reach.  In the end she fell prey to his charm, his unshakeable confidence.  Having his attention made her heart flutter, nervous and enthralled. Her whole body would ache when she'd catch his murky grey green eyes looking over every part of her with a strange mixture of menace and hunger. She took advantage of the chance to escape. But she was quickly realizing that submitting to him, letting him invade her senses came at a high price. Too often her mind was flooded with thoughts of him. She cursed his name every time her body disobeyed her and longed for him.   _This is what he wants._ She certainly didn't want to give up her gratifying distraction just yet but she had to be cautious, not let lust compromise her.   

     Only a few steps away from his room she blew out her candle and as quietly as possible she slipped inside, not wanting anyone to hear or see her.  She came down the steps of the entryway not noticing he was sitting at his desk, "Sansa!" He snapped.

     She gasped and jumped at the sound of his voice. The candle in her hand went crashing to the floor. He rose from his chair irritated, but he spoke in a low, icy tone,"You shouldn't be out wandering around so late. Someone could have seen you."

     She paused and took in the sight of him, the shock washing away.  Clearly he was not expecting any visitors and was only wearing a loose robe, a pair of pants, bare feet.  

     She leaned forward and picked up her candle and set it on the entryway table before asking, “When did you arrive? I had no idea."

     "I arrived right after dinner but you were already in your room for the night. I didn't think it necessary to disturb you."

     “Of course.”

     “If you thought I wasn't here why did you come to my room?”

     "I was having trouble sleeping. I sit in here when I can't sleep."

     "What exactly were you going to do in my room all alone?"

     "I was going to sit by the window."

     "What is that?" he asked his eyes taking notice of the paper dangling from her fingertips.

     She brought her hand up slowly, his eyes followed, his head slightly tilted, "It's the letter you wrote me," she replied. 

     “There’s not much to read in that letter”

     “Did you even write this with your own hand?” she asked without thinking as she unfolded the piece of paper. It was a question she asked herself many times. Why throw away a chance for a proper answer.

     He walked out from behind his desk and came towards her, "If not me, who do you think wrote it?"

    "One of your whores."  She mocked as she countered his movement and began to read his letter out loud, “Dear Alayne,  I have safely arrived in Kings Landing. There is much to do here and I am not sure when I will be returning to the Vale.  I’m sure you’ll have no problem keeping things in order while I am away but if anything should happen you know how to contact me.  Stay out of trouble.  Your Devoted Father, Petyr Baelish” She dropped the letter on his desk.

    “You know I’d never trust one of my girls to write a letter for me...especially to my daughter. That letter was written by my own hand. Tell me what else you were going to do in here. Were you going to sit at my desk too?" He asked while a slight hint of a grin began to turn up the corners of his mouth.

     “No your bed.  The furs are very comfortable.  I like to wrap myself up and think.”

     “And what exactly do you think about so late at night?” He asked as he gracefully fidgeted with the ornate rings that stayed on his fingers even at this late hour.

     “I think about the future, all the secrets I know you keep from me, all the lies you've told, all the people you've killed. How could I let such a man have me?” She walked out from behind his desk.

     “And the answer?”

     "I don't have one.  Yet here I am sneaking into your room, reading your letter.”

     “Do you also think about all the things _you've done?_ You've told many lies, willingly been my accomplice, eagerly shared my bed. How is it that the daughter of the great Eddard Stark can make such choices and feel no shame for such a lack of morals?" 

     She shrugged her shoulders, “Another question I don't have an answer to.”

     He shook his head as he flashed a playful, conniving smile,"I think you're wrong. You have all the answers right in front of you."

     She turned her gaze away from him towards the door, “I’m starting to question whether you are really here.”  

     He furrowed his brow, “What do you mean?”

     “I haven't gotten much rest the last two days….maybe this is all just in my head.” she replied moving towards him, closing the distance.

     “I’m not an hallucination.” He replied, now only inches away from her.

     “Prove it.”

     He brought a hand to her waist while the other floated up to trace the line of her jaw. Then he leaned into her, breathing her in as he placed a kiss right where her neck met her shoulder.  His warm, soft lips lingered, pressed gently against her skin then without warning he bit her hard.

     She yelped, “That hurt.”

     He cupped her face in his hands, “Do you believe me now?”

     “Yes.”  

     He pulled her close, brought his lips to her ear, pressed his cheek to hers, "Sweet, darling Sansa tell me what you really do all alone in my room....so very late at night."

     With a knowing smile on her face, her cheeks flushed with the heat of wanting him, she met his gaze, "Well..." She bit her lower lip, "I think I'll keep that all to myself." her words floating out on a sigh, a warm soft whisper against the palm of his hand. 

    He laughed softly to himself as he traced the outline of her lips with his thumb.

    "I'll leave you to your work.  I'll go toss and turn in my own bed." she said as she tried to step away from him but he pulled her right back into his space. She was close and tight to him, the soothing warmth of his breath radiating against her skin, cascading down her neck. When his lips finally touched hers, her knees went weak, her stomach tied itself in knots.  She focused on staying calm and collected, not wanting to expose how much she missed being touched by him, being under the intense scrutiny of his magnetic gaze. His lips lightly pushed and pulled against hers at first, teasing her by delaying. She fell in line with his languid pace wanting to relish the first taste after so much time apart. Once his tongue finally broke the barrier of her lips any sense of control quickly vanished. His mouth devoured hers and she gladly reciprocated. His fingers tangled themselves in her hair and her hands found their way under his robe. Feeling his bare skin under her fingertips made her heart swell almost painfully in her chest. For once her fingers weren't digging into the cold, decadent fabric of his robes but his hot skin. 

     "I shouldn't be here.  You weren't expecting me anyways...” she sighed, slightly out of breath.  

     “Stay.” he whispered the command against her lips before he began to kiss her again.

     They fumbled and climbed on to the bed, never losing contact.  He helped her pull off her robe and nightgown, then her small clothes.  She laid back on the bed naked as he fell forward on his hands and knees, hovering over her.  The front of his robe was almost completely open, exposing the nasty scar that bisected his chest. Usually he was careful to keep the scar hidden from her but after so much time a part it didn't matter.  When his lips attacked hers once again, she quietly whimpered into his mouth. Their kiss was immediately violent and messy, his tongue seizing and claiming her mouth. The longer he kissed her, the more she felt like she was drowning on the savage lust that was seeping out of her heart and pumping fiercely through her veins. The deeper she sank into the shadows of their depraved connection the more she embraced it, the more she feared she would not be able to do without it. Her hands reached out for him, floundering to find any part of him to latch on to.  She gripped his waist trying to push him down, wanting desperately to feel the weight of his body on top of hers.  All her focus went to pulling him down between her legs so she could rub herself against him in the hopes that he would finally give in and bury his cock in her.  

    His whole body pulled against her efforts. He broke their kiss and lowered his lips down to her jaw, then brushed past her collar bone on his way down to her nipple, “Tsk, tsk, tsk...not yet....patience sweetling you have to have patience." he murmured as he kissed and bit her breasts.  

    He took his time making his way down the rest of her body, indulging in the taste and feel of her skin on his lips and tongue. His cool grey-green eyes locked on to hers as he pressed his cheek against her inner thigh and placed his hand on her wet center. He kneaded his palm into her swollen nub, only applying enough pressure for the slightest sensation...taunting with a slow release of gratification.  "Petyr" she breathed out, her head spinning with the anticipation, the need to experience that inevitable glorious crash.  He placed one hand on the flat of her stomach to hold her in place and then pressed his mouth into her folds, drinking her up. Her hips bucked up gently in response. He delayed fully engaging her pulsing nub. He circled it, teased it.  _Breathe in, breathe out.  Breathe in, breathe out,_ she chanted in her head as she felt him slip two fingers inside her and steadily began to pump them in and out.  His fingers pressed forward deep inside her seeking out the spot that made her breath catch in her chest. She combed her hands through his hair and then pulled at it harshly to steady herself when he finally pressed his tongue into her aching nub. His lips and tongue sucked hard on it, making her heart leap in her throat choking her.

    She bit down hard on her lower lip in an effort to muffle the loud moans that rose from the depths of her body. Her hips squirmed and pushed up wanting more, desperately wanting to grind into his mouth. His hand skimmed up from her stomach to cradle and play with her breast.  His fingers pinched her tender, hard nipple painfully and her whole body jerked. She grabbed at the hand on her breast, his rings pressing into her hand as she latched on tight.  Sensing she was close to the release that she so desperately wanted his fingers picked up speed and found a hard, deep rhythm inside her. She squeezed her eyes shut, overwhelmed, his name falling from her lips with every exhalation.  Every thought and worry was slipping away, evaporating from her mind. _I wish I could stay right here_ , was the only tangible thought left in her head. She braced herself as her climax began to hit her in waves. Her thighs clenched and her body spasmed while the frenzy of bliss rippled through her body. And for one single, glorious moment she believed with her whole being that she could stay.  She believed she could stay right here, hidden away in the peace that such blinding pleasure provided. But of course it was only a moment...fleeting, and false. 

     He waited until her breath was somewhat even before he pulled away. He got up on his knees, unlacing his pants.  She sat up and helped him, taking him in her hand and stroking the length of him.  His head fell back and he sighed with relief as she took him in her mouth. She had taken his cock in her mouth only a handful of times and each time she was surprised by how naturally it came to her, her eagerness, and complete lack of inhibition. It thrilled her to see him unravel, to see the power she had over him manifested in his eyes, the jagged rise and fall of his chest, the strangled, desperate sounds that rose involuntarily from his throat. Every time his tempered, disciplined demeanor was obliterated.  At the start her tongue licked the sensitive underside of his cock while her lips pressed and relaxed against his length. After a brief moment of holding his breath he let out a low groan and she could feel his hips involuntarily twitching and pressing towards her when she hit a certain spot. She sped up and then slowed, sucked harder and teased him with the slightest touch of her fingers and lips.  Small drops of his seed began to pour out as his breathing transformed into light pants. She licked and sucked the leaking sensitive head of his cock.  There was a sharp intake of breath through his teeth before he rasped out, “Fuck...Sansa…”  It only took a couple more strokes from her mouth and hands before she felt his seed spilling on her tongue, his whole body frozen and taut with overwhelming bliss. He exhaled forcefully as he watched her swallow his seed without flinching. Sansa felt a sudden rush of arousal as she witnessed him lose himself in the same blinding pleasure she found earlier. The sharp, focused edge of his gaze was slowly soften and cracked by the pleasure pouring into every part of him. He ran his hands through his hair and down his face, his brilliant rings of silver and gold scraping against his skin as he laid back on the bed. 

    She laid down next to him, feeling weightless, a smile on her face as the euphoria sank into her blood, all the way down to the marrow in her bones. Everything was a lovely blur, her whole body going limp as all the tension melted away.  There was a time in her life when the thought of pleasuring a man with her mouth would have disgusted her, when her only concerns were, finding true love, singing songs, and wearing pretty dresses.  She liked to tell herself that one day her life would be that simple and carefree again, that every choice and action was in service of getting back to that but as she watched him get out of bed and walk back to his desk, a refreshing clarity washed over her, a resolute acceptance. It was all a delusion, a comforting lie to justify her sins, who she really was and wanted to be. _All that’s gone forever,_ she thought as she watched him work, mesmerized by the elegant, meticulous movements of his hand as he wrote across the clean, crisp paper.  

     “You need to rest. You should go back to your room.” He said, not bothering to look up from the letter he was writing.

     “No not yet.  I’m going to sleep and in a couple hours I’ll have you again.” She said as she wrapped herself up in his furs.

     He sat back in his chair and looked over at her, a self satisfied smirk plastered across his face, "Just this once." She heard him say as she drifted off to sleep.

**  
**


End file.
